fake compote and compote

Kompot snuck into his fake's house and climbed into the closet. The fake returned home, threw his sweatshirt on the floor, and went to bed. Kompot sat in the closet for 15, 20, 30 minutes and decided to check if the fake was really sleeping. This genius, without a trace, approached the sleeping fake and placed his palm on his forehead. The fake had a fever, your mother. The fake woke up and, half asleep, pulled Kompot onto his bed, hugging him, and the fake, as luck would have it, fell asleep again. Then do whatever you want and play as whoever you want.